


Log-on & Live: A Chobits FanFiction

by Vivian (Bigou)



Category: CLAMP - Works, Chobits
Genre: Bodyswap, English ISN'T the author first language, English ISN'T the author main language, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Suddenly-a-Girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:23:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5090609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigou/pseuds/Vivian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One instant I was programing the persocom of my dreams, the next I was a persocom trying to save its master.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Log-on & Live: A Chobits FanFiction

**Author's Note:**

> **Please, understand that English ISN'T what I speak in my everyday life.** _So please, instead of simply stop reading if I mangled it too much, explain what I did wrong in comments, thanks._

My oldest memory… Isn't really my own.

In said memory, I'm a lonely little boy. I feel so alone that, at only 4, I'm already thinking of suicide. What made me ultimately decide against it is an unwillingness to inflict the same kind of sadness on my parents. Alas, it also prevented me from ever speaking of it with my parents.

All that because the girl next door moved out, becoming a far away friend I didn't have any contact with anymore…

It all happened around the time persocoms became mass-market products rather than a luxury. Sure, back then persocoms weren't as human-looking than nowadays. Their CPU wasn't powerful enough to let them simulate emotions, and they weren't covered in simili-skin.

But they looked human enough to make a 4 years old lonely boy think he could build himself a new friend, that it was the only way to have one who wouldn't go away.

That's the story of how the best non-Asian customized-persocom maker came to be. Someone who, paradoxically, stayed unable to make the persocom of his dream for so long, he ended being the last person using a more conventional computer.

The persocom of my dreams, that's what I was working on when everything changed.

I had already finished the physical part, finding funny to make her look like a Japanese girl, since all the better ‘stock’ models of persocoms are designed by Japanese companies.

Since what I wanted was a friend and not a robotic sex-toy, (and never liked the busty blondes every man is supposed to dream of) I gave her a slender chest and black hairs in a pixie haircut. She turned cutter than I ever expected.

For her ‘ears’, for lack of a better therm, I used a pair with a black lower part, the top one being the same ocean blue than I had chosen for her eyes. I know that Asian peoples rarely have blue eyes, if ever, but we're speaking of a persocom here, so I could give her eyes any color I wanted!

I had finished the physical part, (hardware include) which was all state of the art at the time, and was working on the software part when the incident happened. I didn't know it then, but it was caused by a defective fuse.

What I **did** knew was that, one instant I somehow got hit by a hight voltage when I shouldn't, and the following one I was looking at my unconscious body from what looked like my persocom's perspective.

In my hast to call the emergency, I didn't realize I did it by connecting myself to my home's local network, or how natural it felt to do so.

What I did notice was that my new persocom-self was seeing my human self as its owner and, since before the accident he still had a lot of programing until he could activate me, he hadn't properly decided on a name for me yet. That made thing rather awkward a bit latter, when one of the paramedics taking my owner to a hospital asked how he should call me.

Thankfully, they didn't pry more after saying I didn't have one yet.

Being the only one around to know the injured man, and the only witness of what happened, they asked me to come along. They didn't say anything when I switched to standby mode in the ambulance, and even indicated an area where I could recharge my batteries while waiting for news of my owner's health.

Upon entering the room, I was surprised by how wide it was, and much persocoms were already there. It was a shock to me, to discover how much humanity seemed to prefer robotic companions over their own kind, lately. What's wrong with peoples?!?

Anyway, I found an empty docking station and plugged myself on it, speeding-up my charge by going back to standby mode. Maintaining a simulated thought-process as complex as mine was very demanding of my CPU, emptying my energy-cells way faster than I would have if not ‘born’ the way I was. It also made ability at doing my persocom responsibilities more sluggish than a 10 years old pocket model without any empty space left in its memory, so much than I forgot to tell my owner's family about what happened.

I only woke-up, or ‘switched back to work mode’ if you prefer, when a nurse lightly shook me. Unsurprisingly, she was a persocom too. A black skinned one with shoulder-length black hairs, brown eyes, like the top part of her ears, the under-part of them being that widespread white, and average-sized breasts.

“Miss persocom?” she called me, making sing I should remain seated “Your owner survived, but…” At first, her words overjoyed me. Then, she said that cursed ‘but’, and… “He's unable to move by himself, the hight current that passed through his body deprived him from almost all of his motricity. Sorry…”

Then she explained to me how they gave him a screen on which he could write by moving his eyes, and how patients usually fared better emotionally, when it was a familiar persocom who helped them calibrate it. “If you could be so kind as let me upload the needed program and how to use it into your memory.” Said the nurse, like it was the more natural thing in the world.

Granted, it probably is to most persocoms, and as freaked out I was by the mere idea of having knowledge simply inserted in my mind, I wasn't about to deny her. It was the least I could do for my owner and maker, after all.

After connecting our minds and trowing what I needed into mine, the nurse took me to my owner's room, where I waited for him to wake-up, hooked to the nearest power outlet.

* * *

My owner needed to be calmed down before I could calibrate his helping screen, his inability to move or speak freaking him out. (I did said calibrating with closed eyes, to prevent my own sight from interfering with the screens cameras.) So I explained what happened to him and which what consequences as best as I could.

When his screen was finally ready, his first question was “Who finished your programing?”

How could I explain to him that most of my programing is a digitalized version of his brain without sounding like a mad-machine? In the end, I decided the better way to process was directly proving it. So I spoke of things very few peoples knew beside him, when he wasn't the only one knowing, many of them being rather embarrassing. So I hope you will excuse me for not revealing those here, but I'm simply not allowed to.

It took him time to type his next words, using his eyes to do so still being new to him. But when he finished, the emotionless voice of his screen said “It must be hard, having a mechanical body of the wrong sex.”

At this I launched a quick diagnostic of my own code, before answering “while I do seem to have a full digitalized copy of your mind, only the parts my programing is lacking are used.”

“This make you the twin sister I never had, I suppose.”

“My mind may be based on yours, I'm no less a persocom. My Operating System is full of restrictions, some being there to prevent me from being anything my owner didn't explicitly asked me to be.” Some of said restrictions where what prevented me from being saddened by this fact.

But they couldn't prevent my owner from being saddened by it. “So I suppose there is no hope in making you to choose your own name, sis.”

I was about to confirm that sad news when, thanks to how similar were our mind, I predicted what he was on the verge of naming me. “You named me: **Hope** ”, my O.S. made me say. “Do you confirm your choice, _brother_?” Apparently, my system considered my prediction as valid as him making the actual decision.

Knowing it was the nearest thing I would ever do to making the choice myself, he confirmed it before adding “I shouldn't be surprised by how much we're thinking alike, knowing how you came to be, sis.”

“No, you shouldn't _brother_.” The way I kept calling him ‘brother’ was bittersweet to him, that's something I could see in his eyes. While I acknowledged being some sort of sibling for my owner, my persocom nature made me sound like a maid saying ‘master’ to call her employer. I kept saying it emotionlessly, unable to pour any feeling in that word.

I was under the impression he was about to comment on it, but he never got the time, the nurse from before stopping him by saying “She already explained things to you? That will make things easier” before stepping aside, revealing my brother's family.

That's when I realized _**I**_ hadn't informed them of the current situation. “How di-did y-you know to… A-and who t-to…”

“Your reactions weren't a persocom's ones, in which case the procedures are to scan said persocom's mind to identify the cause, and report it to the competent authorities. Things are made that way to help separate a persocom who accidentally became sentient to a persocom built like this, the latter case being illicit. A human trying to upload part of the totality of its mind into a persocom is considered as a form of the second case.”

Well, that explained how she knew who needed to be contacted, and how to do so…

“You're the first case of the donor not dying in the process, so the International Committee for Ethical Computers may study you two for a time. But trying to transfer a human mind into a persocom is still illegal so, in the end, Hope will probably have her sentience striped from her.”

“But I wasn't.” Countered the cold voice of my brother's screen-aid. “I was coding her mind by typing on a keyboard when my body and hers were traversed by an electrical surge and, somehow, copied my mind into her.” I confirmed this by nodding vigorously.

This shocked every human present, (<mode="ironic">Thanks for all the trust in your own son, folks!</mode>) and caused the nurse to make a long pause, her blank face no doubt a sign of her searching how should she react to that bit of data.

“If that's true, your case fall under ‘persocom accidentally becoming sentient’. Unless you're proved to be lying, the International Committee for Ethical Computers should let Hope exist as your sentient persocom.” I didn't like much how she sounded unable to truly knowledge we could be saying the truth.

“That's unnecessarily cold, _nurse_!” Snarled my brother's mo… Snarled mom. “I miss the past, when doctors weren't the only humans working in hospitals…”

“The International Committee for Ethical Computers claim harshness is the best way to deal with the possibility of outlaw persocom.” Countered the nurse, somehow sounding unconvinced.

“A point I can't agree with” said another voice, before a doctor entered the room. Said doctor looked strikingly like the nurse, but human and older. Some former patient must have gifted it as a way to say thanks to the doctor, who gave her lookalike to the hospital. That's on the ever growing list of creepy things peoples do nowadays, and the way most hospitals get their persocoms.

Giving three memory-sticks to the nurse, the doctor said “Take miss Hope with you and help her make backups of her mind. One for the ICEC, one for the hospital archives, and one for herself, just in case.” (ICEC: **I** nternational **C** ommittee for **E** thical **C** omputers, in case you hadn't followed.)

Unplugging myself from the power outlet before following the nurse, from the corner of my eyes I saw the sad glances the doctor gave to her lookalike. I'm not one for prying on other's lives usually, but something seemed fishy here. Why make me go away to make backups  
_on flash-drives_?

Then, once she took me to an empty room, the nurse tried to make me do the three backups simultaneously, I informed her that my CPU didn't have enough resources left. It didn't discourage her. “Let me connect us together, so I can lend you some of my CPU's power.”

Her insistence made me wary. Thankfully, my brother configured my O.S. to prevent me from accepting a connection if I doubted of its good intention. “No thank you, I prefer doing it alone, one key after another.”

To my surprise, she relented. Was I being paranoid?

While I connected myself to both the first flash-drive the nearest power-source, the nurse explained to me how the ICEC would proceed for its investigation, and what would happen depending of its results. The way she put it scared me, sounding like the ICEC didn't care much about the presumption of innocence, her emotionless voice unable to hide the fact she spoke from a personal experience.

Scanning the flash-drive, expecting to find some viruses, I instead found some memories on it. Playing them, I discovered they were from the nurse. Not only had she used to be human, but got her mind transferred into a persocom against her will, because her boyfriend couldn't accept her dying from a cancer.

The nurse, Aurore, would have gladly let the ICEC check her memories, her whole program even, but they took her sentience before she could, seemingly not caring about ethics. And they never suspected her boyfriend, convinced she was helped by her twin, instead. But being unable to prove it, they changed Aurore into a nurse, making her work in the same hospital than her sister.

Those memories ended in a more common video, showing a guy claiming to be some private investigator recruited by said twin-sister, the doctor who look so much like Aurore, to discover the truth. “Not only is said truth prove the ICEC overwhelming lack of professionalism and ethics, I also discovered that since they took Aurore's sentience, her ex-boyfriend reprogrammed a lot of persocoms having reached sentience, making them believe they used to be human.”

Then he claimed one of the reprogrammed sentient persocom was a decommissioned unit from the army, showing picture of it. I knew that model, brother worked on it for the French Army. He had heard of one becoming sentient, and thus being decommissioned. France wanted him to study that persocom, to know if it was an isolated case or if their others would become sentient too, eventually. But that test-subject was lost during transport, or so we believed.

I copied that memory-file on my internal storage, before copying my whole system, personality and memories includes, on the flash-drive. (Their capacity had greatly increased during the past years, so I didn't need to erase the present memories to copy all this.) To increase the speed and reliability of said copy, I temporarily put my mind on standby, becoming no more than an ordinary persocom.

When I finished that first copy, I unplugged the memory-stick, reactivated my mind, and plugged the next one. It didn't have any memory present on it, but a virus. Thankfully, said virus was counting on the auto-execution being activated on my O.S., so I simply reformatted the flash drive did another copy of my mind, _without_ disabling it, this time.

The third stick had the same virus than the first, but also had a script file supposed to make me connect myself to the hospital Wi-Fi, giving me the needed password, and instructions on how to make a memory be played as video on all the hospital screens, probably to ensure everyone saw fake memories of my brother trying to transfer his mind into me.

I copied the little script in my own memory, formated the flash-drive before copying my system on it, and then diffused Aurore's history.

It was 5 years ago, and because of the mess it caused, the ICEC still don't have ruled my case. We don't even know if the ICEC will still be around when said case is going to be judged, honestly.

But what I expect from them, more than giving me the right to stay _sentient_ , to stay **myself** , is to hear them trying to right all the wrongs they caused, both directly and indirectly. The first step in that direction would be changing the law so, when someone transfert the mind of someone-else into a persocom, we don't deprive the victim of her free will.

Sure, that transfer **is** illegal, but why take away the sentience of _an innocent_ **victim**? Since when do punishing someone for _a crime they didn't make_ , **a crime in which they are the victim** , make any sense?


End file.
